


letters for the ducklings with the broken paper wings

by YoungLion (CastielsShockBlanket)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Epic Friendship, Everyone Needs A Hug, Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Harmonicas, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Jim Has Issues, Jim is a Little Shit, OR IS IT, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pike is such a dad, Pining, Poet - Freeform, Poetry, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Teen Angst, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, also, especially for jim, sometimes, unrelated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 02:50:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13801827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsShockBlanket/pseuds/YoungLion
Summary: Jim, Spock, and Leonard all met as kids in the second grade, and they immediately hit it off as friends. But over time, life and family and differences got in the way, and they grew apart again. When they meet up again in their junior year of high school, they don't seem to get along so easily.Despite their newfound differences, they still end up in Pike's Creative Writing Class together. Will it be enough to bring these three, meant to be, back together? Or will they ignore the obvious connections the three of them have?(Spoiler alert: y'all already know they'll be friends again...but how????)





	1. Spock: A First Impression

For the first time in his admittedly short life, seven year old S'chn T'gai Spock was going to be late to school. 

It was the first day of the second grade, which wasn't exactly a big deal to him; it was just that his father had raised him to be on time for things, and besides, he wanted to make a good impression on the first day. Both on the teacher, and his classmates. He already had enough trouble making friends at school, and making a bad first impression wouldn't make it any easier on him. 

But no matter how badly he wanted to be on time, he was going to be late.His mother was already at work--she'd tried to get out of it to see Spock off on his first day, but he and his dad had both agreed it wasn't that big of a deal--and his father was supposed to drop him off. That was, until something came up at  _his_ work, and suddenly Spock's father didn't have time to drive him to the school. 

"It's not that far of a walk, you should be fine," Spock's dad told him, kneeling down in front of him on the porch. "But your mother said she would feel more comfortable if you walked with the neighbor's boy, so that's what I want you to do."

Spock nodded, and his father gave him a quick hug before heading off towards his car to drive to work. Once he'd driven away, Spock sighed and made his way over to neighbor's house. A blonde haired boy who looked to be about Spock's age was just walking out the bright red front door of the house, slamming it behind him but not, it didn't seem, out of anger. He seemed to notice Spock when he was about halfway down the lawn and his face lit up into a grin, and he held up a hand to wave. Spock returned the smile and wave a little shyly, meeting up with the boy on the sidewalk.

"Hey, you go to my school, right?" the boy asked, still smiling.

"Yes, may I walk with you? My dad can't drive me today," Spock said, his shyness ostensibly as permanent as this stranger's smile. 

The boy gasped, a look of excitement on his face. "That's such a good idea! Walking by yourself is so dumb, but if we walk together neither of us will be dumb. I'm Jimmy by the way, what's your name?"

"Spock."

"Let's be friends, Spock."

"Alright."

If Spock had known making friends would be that easy, he might've been less shy in his classes last year. But not all of his classmates were as friendly as Jimmy, in fact some of them could be quite mean. 

None of that seemed to matter while Spock walked with Jimmy, though, because Jimmy rambled on and on about how he and his brother had fallen out of a tree over the weekend, and then asked Spock if he liked to climb trees, and if he had siblings. And after a couple of questions and stories, Jimmy told him jokes, and Spock found himself laughing instead of feeling nervous like he had before. He didn't think he would even mind being late all that badly, so long as he was late with a friend.

They were walking past the park near the school when Jimmy suddenly stopped laughing, elbowing Spock in the ribs with one arm and pointing insistently at something across the street from them. 

Spock looked to where he was pointing, his gaze landing on another boy their age, sitting on his knees by the rain gutter, huddled over something small and yellow. He realized after a second that it was a baby duck, mostly bright yellow in color, except for what looked like muddled brown on one side. He looked over at Jimmy to ask what was so important about it, only to find that Jimmy was already gone, running clumsily across the street towards the baby bird and the boy sitting beside it. Curious and unwilling to leave his newfound friend behind, Spock carefully looked both ways down the street before hurrying over to where Jimmy was already kneeling beside the other boy, asking him questions and looking down at the bird.

When he got closer, Spock could see that the muddled brown wasn't brown at all, but instead spots of blood.

"What happened to it?" Spock asked, gasping as he hurried closer, trying to get there quickly without moving so fast as to scare the bird. "Is it alright?"

"I think a cat might've got her," the nameless boy said, only glancing up from the duckling for a second to acknowledge Spock. Spock thought he caught the hint of tears in the stranger's eyes, threatening to spill over but not yet. "We have to help her. What do we do?"

"When I broke my arm last year, the doctor put a cast on it so it wouldn't move around so it would be better sooner. Can we put a cast on a ducky?" Jimmy suggested. He glanced over at Spock and then at the other boy, and he seemed only a little less likely to start crying than the other boy had. Like they could feel whatever suffering that the baby duck was feeling, exactly as strongly as the duck was feeling it. Spock felt bad for the duckling and he wanted to help as much as they did, but he didn't feel the same pain as the duck and he wondered if there was something wrong with him. 

"We don't have a cast," Spock reminded them.

Jimmy nodded, looking down at the duckling and delicately reaching out towards it. When the bird seemed startled he immediately pulled away, and when he tried the second time she let him pick her up. He held her to his chest, carefully, as if the rest of her would break if he held her wrong, and whispered a few reassurances to her. Things like, "You're gonna be okay. We'll make sure of it. Me, Spock, and...."

"Leo," the other boy said, when Jimmy looked at him quizzically.

"Leo," Jimmy repeated to the duckling. "Leo, me, and Spock'll take care of you, okay?"

"We should take her to the school with us," Leo said after a second. "Maybe one of the grown ups will know what to do. The nurse told me what to do when I scraped my knee that once."

"We have to be careful, though," Spock said. "She could get hurt more if we drop her or something."

Jimmy nodded determinedly, slowly getting to his feet with the duckling in his arms. As they started their walk towards the school again, he took each step with extreme care, even walking around the puddles on the sidewalk, which Spock had previously noticed he loved to jump in. He would look down at the duckling, occasionally talking to her, then back up at the road ahead of them. Leo and Spock gave him warnings when there was something in his path; of course he'd seen most of those things, but neither of them much liked feeling helpless, or making Jimmy handle everything on his own.

After half a block, Jimmy looked over at Spock and Leo and said, "We should give her a name. Ooh, Leo, you found her, you should name her!"

Leo frowned for a second. "Peaches."

"Peaches?" Spock repeated.

"Peaches," Jimmy and Leo said in unison, matching affectionate smiles on their faces.

They carried Peaches a whole block until they reached the elementary school, slipping in the front gate and heading towards the Nurse's Office instead of any of the second grade classrooms. 

The nurse seemed less than impressed when three second grade boys walked into her office on the very first day of class, most likely thinking they didn't want to be in class. Her look of disapproval dropped to one of concern when Jimmy carefully presented Peaches to her, once again looking like he just might cry if the nurse told him there was nothing she could do. Leo glanced over at the duckling for a second before turning to the nurse and saying, "We found her in the road, miss, she's hurt something bad. Can't you help her?"

"She really should go to a vet," the nurse said, a frown in her brow. 

"We couldn't walk that far," Jimmy declared, as if offended by the response she'd given. Not, as Spock had thought, about to cry, but ready to defend the bird whenever necessary. Or unnecessary. "And Peaches really needs help!"

"Okay, calm down, Jimmy," the nurse said, holding her hands out in a placating gesture that would do nothing to win any of them over if she didn't start offering solutions as well. 

"Can't you call a vet?" Spock asked, stepping up to stand beside Jimmy and Peaches.

"I suppose," the nurse said. "I can hold her here until a vet comes, if it really means that much to you. But the three of you will have to get to class."

"And leave Peaches all by herself?"

"Jimmy, I've helped you enough times for you to know I'm good at my job. I think I can take care of a baby duckling."

Jimmy narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, meanwhile Leo turned to grab the pillows off of the couch in the waiting room. Spock wasn't sure what he wanted with them, but when Leo almost dropped one Spock caught it and carried it over with him nonetheless. The nurse gave them a look, and she opened her mouth to either question them or scold them when Leo spoke up, "We need something to keep her comfortable, ma'am."

"Yeah, she doesn't have her mom or her nest," Spock said, backing him up with a nod. "She has to be warm, and comfy."

The nurse sighed, taking the pillows from Leo and Spock and setting them up in a nest-like formation on the counter, against the wall. Once they were satisfied with how it had been set up, Jimmy started for the counter to set Peaches down. The nurse reached out to take her from him, but Jimmy stepped away, refusing to give her up, so Spock moved the nurse's stool over to the counter so that Jimmy could reach it better. Jimmy gave Spock a quick smile, then stepped onto the stool, still whispering soothingly to the duckling as he reached out to gently place her in the nest of pillows. He watched her for a couple of seconds before stepping back down, and when he turned to face the nurse again, so did Spock.

"You'll call the vet, right?" Jimmy asked, more like an order.

The nurse nodded firmly. 

"So can't we stay with her 'till the vet gets here?" 

"Get to class," the nurse said.

"We can come back at recess and see if the vet got her or not, though, right?" Spock suggested, and Jimmy and Leo nodded enthusiastically.

The nurse sighed dramatically, but she also nodded. "Sure, but only if you get to your classes right now."

The three of them nodded once more, gave one last look at Peaches, then turned and made their way out of the Nurse's Office. They weren't aware of it then, but those past couple of moments had set the foundation for everything their relationships would become later.

When they stepped outside Jimmy asked, "Which was is our classes again?"


	2. Rumors of Return

"Why don't you just swallow your pride and go ask him for help?"

"Pride leaves a nasty aftertaste, and I'm all outta sweet tea to wash it down with," Leonard answered, arms folded across his chest. "Besides, I don't need help from  _him."_

"Real mature, Leo."

Leonard and Hikaru were sitting on the stools by the sinks in the back of their AP Bio class, looking back and forth between their assignment and the table Spock and Nyota sat at in the front of the room, working studiously on their own assignment. It wasn't that Leonard or Hikaru were bad at biology, in fact it was Leonard's best subject, and Hikaru wouldn't be in AP if he wasn't good at it. It was just this one worksheet they weren't getting; primarily because they had a sub that day, who completely failed to explain anything on the handout. The only reason Nyota and Spock were doing so well was because they both had a tendency to read ahead in the textbook, something Leonard and, well, the rest of the class, didn't have the time or energy for. 

Not that Leonard was ready to admit that just yet. He leaned one elbow on the counter, tapping his pen against his leg in frustration, and said, "It's not because I don't like him, which I don't. We just don't need help. From anyone."

"Yeah, that's why you're glaring at the back of Spock's head right now," Hikaru said dryly.

"Shut up."

"We can just ask Nyota," Hikaru suggested, chuckling quietly. Then he shook his head and said, "Wait, no we can't. She's sitting right next to Spock, and if you go within an inch of him you'll explode or something, right? That's the only reason I got for how much you avoid the guy."

"I don't  _avoid_ \--"

"At lunch yesterday, we were walking down the hall, and you made us change directions because you saw Spock walking down the same hall."

"Okay, fine, I avoid him," Leonard grumbled, rolling his eyes as he continued to tap his pen. He was glad the whole class was talking as loudly as they were, he knew Spock shared the same opinion of him but it would've been awkward if he'd overheard their conversation. Besides, why was Hikaru so interested in Leonard's opinion of Spock, anyway? Leonard sighed, saying, "But only because he's so annoying. And I'll avoid you, too, soon if you don't just drop the subject."

Hikaru put out his palms in a gesture of surrender, although a smirk still decorated his lips. He glanced down at the paper, then looked back up and said, "Which of these is not a product of glycolysis?" 

"Your mom's a product of glycolysis," Leonard said with disinterest. Then he looked back at Hikaru and added, "I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean, please don't ask."

"What the fuck does that mean?" 

"I ask you for one simple thing, 'Karu. One thing."

"Two, if you can't not bringing up your burning hatred for Spock. Actually, three, since you want me to help with this handout."

"I want a new lab partner. I'm replacing you with...." he trailed off, looking around the room for a name to use. His eyes settled on Hughbert, their teacher's pet guinea pig, and he said definitively, "I'm replacing you with Hughbert."

Hikaru looked at the guinea pig, then shrugged. "That's fair, Hughbert is smarter than me."

* * *

Eventually they got through their worksheet, despite their struggles, and then it was Gym, American History, then Lunch period. Leonard ditched his usual group in the cafeteria to sit in the library and go over as much of the History reading that had been assigned for that night as he could. He hated to admit it, but if he was gonna keep up with Spock in their classes he'd have to work a little bit harder. Not that he wasn't already a straight A's student, but he was kind of tired of Spock's attempts at making him look like an idiot in class. 

The rest of Lunch period went well until the bell rang, and it was just as he was walking up the stairs to his English class that he overheard something in the hallways that made him think. He wasn't sure if he was happy or upset about it, but he figured he should find out if it was true or not before making up his mind.

"Hey, is it true there's a transfer student this late in the semester?" Leonard asked, tossing his backpack on the floor beside his desk as he dropped into the plastic blue chair attached to it. 

Christine looked up from whatever she'd been doing on her phone, raising an eyebrow at him with a mixture of confusion and amusement. "Since when do you care about rumors, or even other students?"

"Low blow. Just answer the question."

"Yeah, Carol was just texting me about him," Christine said, rolling her eyes as she set her phone face down on her desk. "According to her he's, and this is a direct quote, 'hot af, but probably been to juvie or something.' Do with that information as you please."

"Why does she think he's been to juvie?" Leonard asked, fumbling in his bag as he tried to pull out his notebook without looking away from Christine.

"How the hell should I know? It's Carol."

Leonard's half-response was cut off by the shrill ringing of the bell, and a couple of minutes later Mr. Pike walked into the classroom, carrying a stack of papers in one hand and a Starbucks cup in the other. As he walked in he dropped the papers onto his desk, taking a long sip from his coffee and then setting the cup down, too. "Sorry I'm a little late, everyone."

"It's cool, we've all been late for Starbucks," Gaila commented, earning a chorus of laughter from the classroom, including Pike.

"Believe it or not, it wasn't the Starbucks," Pike said, shaking his head as he walked up to the whiteboard, grabbing the eraser to swipe away notes from the previous class, and the inappropriate doodles someone had left while he was gone. "Marcus wanted to complain to me about one of his students, because we teachers complain about you all the time, you should know that. And I know I don't have to tell most of you how Marcus gets when he starts talking. On and on and on and--Anyway, today we'll be discussing Transcendentalism. Henry David Thoreau, Frederic Hedge, all those guys. So, who wants to tell me what Transcendentalism is?"

A couple of hands went up, and Pike picks the first one he sees, and the kid is halfway through answering when Pike cuts him off with an, "Oh, shit, I forgot to take roll." Followed, as he retrieved a clipboard from his desk, by a, "Sorry, Joey, that was a great answer. You can finish, then I'll take roll."

Leonard more or less zoned out while Pike called roll, only really paying enough attention to raise his hand when his name was called. Once he did that, he tuned out the rest of the list of names in favor of doodling an anatomical heart in the margins of his notebook. He looked up when he thought he heard a name that didn't belong there, but he didn't see the face belonging to it, and figured he must've misheard, turning back to his mindless doodles.

They got back to Transcendentalism, and Pike asked them to grab their books from under their seats and turn them to page 394, which was a brief biography of Henry David Thoreau. They were about halfway through reading the little blip of a bio when the door swung open, and Leonard didn't even bother to look up, not all that concerned with it.

"Yes, son, can I help you?" Pike asked. 

"Yeah, probably not," someone answered, a tone of acute disinterest in his voice. "Should I just sit wherever or..."

"James Kirk, I take it?"

Leonard's head shot up at that, convinced he must have misheard something despite all the previous warning. James Kirk wasn't in Georgia, he hadn't been for years, not since his mom remarried and they packed up for California. They must have moved back, though, because when Leonard looked up it was James Kirk standing there. Different, very different, but definitely him. His confidence seemed to have become more of a show, and he didn't look like he smiled as easily as he used to. His freckles had faded, and the missing front tooth had grown in, because of course it had, it'd been ten fucking years. But he still had the same messy blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. Still wore black Converse and ripped jeans, even if they were different pairs. No doubt about it, that was the same James Kirk that Leonard had met in Georgia all that time ago.

"How'd you know?" Jim asked, gasping in obviously mock surprise. "You a psychic?"

"No, it's just the only name no one answered  _'here'_ to when I called roll fifteen minutes ago," Pike said, unphased by the obvious attitude. Leonard supposed Pike was used to it, considering he worked in a high school. 

And Leonard was used to hearing it, too. Or at least, used to hearing it from high schoolers. But it seemed so foreign, coming from Jim, who had been sassy when Leonard knew him, sure, but never outright rude. It would be a given that a lot had happened in Jim's life since he and Leonard last talked, considering how many years had passed, but Leonard was suddenly hit by just how much must have happened, to turn bright, friendly, cheerful Jimmy into...that.

"Yeah, that makes way more sense," Jim said, nodding ever so slightly. He glanced around the room, probably looking for a seat, and didn't seem to notice Leonard sitting in the back. Eventually he spotted someone he apparently knew, because he made a bee line for one of the empty desks, saying, "Gary, what's up, man? I didn't know you were in American Lit?"

"Hey, what's up, Jim," Gary answered, holding up a hand to high five Jim as he dropped into the desk next to him. 

"If you two are done catching up," Pike said, sounding a little annoyed but still, more or less, unphased. He picked up the clipboard he used to take roll and wrote something down quickly, then returned to standing in front of the whiteboard. "Where were we, again? Right, Henry David Thoreau. He wrote  _Walden_ over the course of two years, two months, and two days in a cabin near Walden Pond--"

"Sir?" 

"Which was actually landed owned by his friend Ralph Waldo Emerson, I don't know if you guys have ever heard of him, pretty obscure dude--"

"Hey, sir?"

"And by obscure I mean leader of the Transcendentalist movement, and you guys should know who that is. He'll most likely be on the quiz this week--"

"Mr. Sir Dude?"

"Yes, James, you have a question?" Pike finally asked, breathing out a sigh as he turned to look at the disruption. Leonard noticed a lot of the class seemed torn between laughter and their own annoyance; it would probably have been funnier had Jim been annoying a different teacher, instead of Pike, a schoolwide favorite. 

"Yeah, you didn't tell me your name," Jim said simply. 

Pike blinked at him, as if trying to understand that it was something as unimportant as that that this new student had interrupted his lecture over. Then he pointed to the upper-right corner of the whiteboard, where MR PIKE was spelled out in all-caps, boxed around by duct-tape with little planets printed over it. Flatly, Pike answered, "It's Pike. Mr. Pike." 

He waited a second, then turned back to the subject, repeating that Ralph Waldo Emerson would be on their quiz Friday. Then he glanced at a paper on his desk quickly, which Leonard figured was notes, and continued, "So, Thoreau seemed to have this idea that sumbersing himself in nature, away from societies problems, with new problems like bugs and wild animals, would be good for him. Does anyone wanna take a guess as to what the hell this guy was thinking?" 

About five hands went up, and Pikes said, "Yes, James, what do you think?"

Jim frowned for a second, then answered, "Actually, I was gonna ask if I could borrow a pen."

Pike just stared straight ahead for a moment, probably not even looking at anything in particular as long as it wasn't Jim, sighed, and then looked over at where Jim was sitting. "It's your first day of school here. Can I ask why you didn't think to bring a pen, to your first day of school?"

"I lost it?" 

"Well you don't really need a pen right now, this is class discussion. I'll give you one if we get to something you need a pen for, how about that?"

"But what if I wanna take notes?"

"Do you want to take notes?"

"No."

"Okay then," Pike said, nodding before turning back towards the rest of the class. "Thoreau wanted to get a more...let's say objective understanding of society, and he wanted to get that through personal introspection."

"How's he gonna understand society if his view is just  _personal_ _?_ Doesn't that seem a little dumb?"

Pike frowned, turning to look at Jim again. He still didn't seem as annoyed as most other teachers would be, in fact Marcus or Archer would've probably sent him to the Dean's already. Pike obviously didn't seem happy with the constant interruptions, but Leonard got the feeling he wasn't all that bothered either. Weirdo. Pike raised an eyebrow, almost a sort of challenge, and asked, "And just what do you know about Thoreau, James?"

Jim looked at Pike for a split second, and Leonard would have guessed that he was trying to figure out whether it actually was a challenge or not. He seemed to make up his mind, as he gave a small nod, cleared his throat, and recited, "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and to see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep, and suck all the marrow out of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and a close shave, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms."

While the rest of the room, including Leonard, sat in stunned silence, Pike wasn't impressed just yet. Or if he was, he didn't show it. "Alright, you've read it. But anyone can memorize a few words, why don't you tell me what they mean? What d'you think?"

"I think Henry needs to fix his run on sentences," Jim cracked, earning a chorus of laughter from the other kids, and even a little smirk from Pike. 

"That's fair, anything else?"

"Yeah," Jim said, shrugging easily. "He didn't go to the woods to think about  _society_. It was about life, individual life. I mean, we're all alive, cuz we're sitting here in this boring building, right? Staying alive's the easy part, it's learning how to live for a living. That's the tricky bitch. Our boy Henry saw that, while most people are alive, not a lot of us are actually living. Most people check the same boxes, stand in the same lines; their lives are set to default and they're not even checking the settings for how to change that. He wanted to break away from living on autopilot, job, money, all that shit. So he just noped the fuck out of it, went to live as a cryptid in the woods."

There were a couple of chuckles at Jim's...unique choice of wording, but despite that it was still a sound analysis of the poem. Not that Leonard had read it yet, hearing Jim's recital had been his first time hearing it, but it didn't sound like that was an answer Jim had made up on the spot. It sounded like he'd not only read it, but actually spent time thinking about it, maybe even read it more than once. So maybe this wasn't the Jimmy that Leonard used to know, but maybe the first impression of asshole teenager wasn't completely accurate either.

From the looks of it, Pike was thinking the same thing.

He nodded for a second, as if digesting everything Jim had said, then turned to look out at the rest of the class. "Alright, I guess he did know something about Thoreau," he said, shrugging. "If everyone wants to turn the page in your books, we can get to reading some more of that poem James was so kind as to recite for us. Can I get a volunteer to read out loud?"

Someone volunteered eventually, and they started reading the fragment of  _Walden_ that the school textbooks had supplied for them. Leonard was only half listening, though, a majority of his attention was focussed on where Jim was sitting across the room, going back and forth between messing around on his phone and whispering stuff to Gary Mitchell. It was a little difficult for Leonard to wrap his head around, that this was the little boy who had taught him how to play kickball better all those years ago so the other children would stop laughing at him, or even the same guy who had just spoken with profound understanding of Transcendentalist literature. Leonard watched as Gary wadded up a scrap of paper and threw it at Jim's face, Jim ducking last second so the ball bounced off the wall behind him and landed on the floor, and both of them stifling immature laughter. 

"Hey, what's your deal? You got a crush or something?" 

Leonard realized he'd been staring after Christine whispered to him. He shook his head, either as a no to her question or to shake himself out of the trance. "Of fucking course not. Just zoning out, that's it."

"Riiiiight," Christine said, nodding slowly before turning her attention back to the pages of the book in front of her. 

Leonard rolled his eyes, watching Jim and Gary for just another second before turning back to his own book as well. Of course he had no idea where they were on the page, but at least it would get Christine off his back. Maybe.

The rest of English went by somehow both slowly and incredibly quickly all at once. Leonard thought about going over to say hello to Jim after the bell rang, but it didn't look like Jim had recognized him, and he wasn't sure what he would even say anyway. "Hey, we haven't talked in ten years and we're both clearly different people now, wanna be friends again?" "Hey, you probably forgot about me by now, but we saved a baby duck one time, remember that?" "Hey, Carol says you went to juvie. Is she right? Why?" Yeah, none of those were happening.

Instead, he shouldered his backpack and made his way out towards the hall with Christine, listening to her drone on about some party that was happening that weekend and how she wasn't sure if she was going to go or not. 

As they walked through the classroom door he overheard Pike's voice asking, "James, I'd like to have a word with you, if you have the time," and he resisted the urge to stop and eavesdrop. 


	3. Pike's Poet's Society

"James, I'd like a word with you if you have the time," Pike said, and it took Jim a second to realize he'd been to talking to him, he was so focussed on looking out the classroom door. He watched Leonard and his friend turn into the hallway, and was sort of torn between trying to go catch up or not.  _Leonard probably doesn't wanna talk to you anyway,_ Jim thought. And could he blame him? If he were in Leonard's shoes, he probably wouldn't want to be friends with him either. Besides, they'd probably both changed a lot in the past ten years, they might not even get along anymore.

"Oooooooh, someone's in  _trooouble_ ," Gary crooned, pulling Jim back out of his thoughts.

"Don't you have a class to get to, Gary?"

Gary rolled his eyes but grabbed his bag and started for the door. Jim watched him go, glancing one last time at where Leonard had disappeared. They were in the same class now, maybe he'd have time to make things up later. That is, if Leonard even gave him the opportunity to make things up. For now, he turned to where Pike was waiting expectantly for an answer and said, mostly just for the sake of arguing, "I have a class to get to, too, man."

Pike just raised an eyebrow. "I didn't get the impression you cared too much about being on time for classes. Unless of course my class is special, in which case, I'm honored."

Well alright, that was a fair point. And Jim wasn't too keen on getting yet another lecture from yet another adult who thought they could fix his life without even knowing what it was, but Pike seemed different and he didn't really care about being on time for his next class, so he figured he could give the guy a chance. He sat on top of the nearest desk and said, "Sorry dude, your class isn't special. But lemme guess, you wanna try and get me to pay more attention or something?"

"Would that work?" 

"Probably not."

"Then I won't bother," Pike answered with a shrug. It was Jim's turn to just raise an eyebrow at him. "I'm not gonna try and tell you to pay attention in my class, although fewer interruptions would be nice. But I've been teaching high school for awhile now, and I know by now there's always gonna be someone not listening. I also don't think you really need to pay attention in my class."

Which, admittedly, threw Jim for a loop. What kind of teacher told a kid they didn't need to pay attention in their class? Jim chuckled, "What is this, some sort of reverse psychology?"

"It's obvious to me that you understand the material, maybe even better than most of the kids who do listen. I thought you were gonna be a way bigger thorn in my side after hearing Marcus complain about you for half an hour--" Jim stifled a laugh at that one. Marcus had been particularly fun to mess with. "--I'm only not telling you that's not funny because Marcus annoys me too, alright. You're a smart kid, but he, and I'm guessing all your other teachers, is convinced you're just some juvenile delinquent. So what is it? You just like being the only genius level, asshole teenager in the Midwest?"

"Maybe I love it," Jim shrugged nonchalantly. "That really what you stopped me to ask?" 

"Actually, I was going to ask about your interest in extracurriculars," Pike said.

This guy was really making a habit of saying things Jim wasn't expecting him to; it was like he knew how predictable most adults in Jim's life were, and was actively trying not to be them. Which was obviously untrue, but Jim couldn't help but think it. He laughed, a little surprised that Pike would even ask Jim about clubs, and then shook his head a little. "I'd say my interest in extracurriculars is a little below none. Why d'you ask?"

"I just thought you might fit in in the Creative Writing Club," Pike told him with a shrug, and Jim tried not to laugh again. What part of him looked like it would  _fit in_ in any club, let alone the Creative Writing one? Not that it didn't sound interesting, it kind of sort of did, but he wasn't about to admit that to some teacher. "Okay, I know what you're thinking, but the club's a pretty diverse group. Hell, your friend Gary Mitchell's even come to a few meetings. Granted he usually only comes to the ones with food, but his comments are still pretty insightful."

"There's free food?" Jim asked, sitting up a little in interest. 

Pike gave him an unamused look, but nodded. "Sometimes, there's free food. In fact, there's pizza at the meeting after school today, but you have to actually contribute to the discussion if you want any of it."

"You should'a led with that," Jim said, grinning. "When and where's it at?"

* * *

The Creative Writing Club met, as it happened, in Pike's classroom at five thirty. Jim spent a the time between school ending and the club starting learning new skateboarding tricks in the parking lot with Gary and some of his friends. Jim had never actually skateboarded before, but it turned out he was pretty good at it, and doing tricks Gary couldn't in no time.

When it came time to go to the club, Jim found himself uncharacteristically lingering outside in the hallway. 

It wasn't that he was nervous to go in...except that maybe he was, just a little. Clubs had never really been his thing, and he'd learned pretty quickly in middle school that his being smart, or interested in literature, didn't exactly make him a class favorite. He'd found that things were a lot easier if he played dumb. Besides, he didn't think the kind of kids who spent their Thursday nights hanging around in an english club were bound to be that much fun. It would probably be a major waste of time, and a boring one at that.

Still, he didn't really have anywhere else to be, and he sure as hell wasn't going back home until he absolutely had to.

"You lost?" a voice asked from somewhere behind him, and he almost jumped, not having expected anyone else to be hanging out in the hallway. He turned around, plastering a casual grin on his face, and spotted the owner of the voice, a girl his age with a high ponytail and some killer winged eyeliner. She had been retrieving a couple of books from a locker across the hall, and she tucked them away, shouldering the bag and heading towards Jim. "You're the new kid I heard about, right?" 

"You guys don't have a lot going on at this school, do you?" Jim asked, raising an eyebrow. It seemed like over half the school already knew who he was. He got that it was a small school, but damn, they should have had at least something more to talk about than some transfer student none of them knew. 

"Small school," the girl answered with a shrug. Then she smiled, like she was trying not to laugh at something, and said, "Also, you  _infuriated_ Marcus, who we all hate, so that story kinda spread." 

"So...good first inpression?" he joked.

"To the students, mostly. To the teachers, not so much," she answered, shaking her head a little. "I'm Nyota, by the way."

"Jim Kirk," Jim introduced himself. 

"Oh, so The New Kid isn't actually your name? That's a shocker." 

"It's actually more of a nickname. One that I'm hoping won't be sticking." 

"It's not very catchy," Nyota said, her ponytail swishing as she shook her head. Jim leaned one shoulder against the row of lockers next to him, figuring talking with her would be at least a little more interesting than some stupid club. "You never answered my question, though. Are you lost?" 

Jim grinned, "What, like, in general, in life? I think we all are." 

"No, in the building," she said with a slight laugh. "Although based off that slightly revealing joke, I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you're looking for Pike's Poet's Society." 

"Is that what they really call it?" Jim asked, suppressing a chuckle.

"No, I just like the alliteration. Sounds way better than Creative Writing Club, though, doesn't it?" 

"Yeah, I guess." 

"Okay, well come on, we're gonna be late," Nyota said, grabbing Jim's elbow and starting towards the open door to Pike's classroom.

"I didn't say that's where I was going," Jim said, although he was letting her lead him nonetheless. 

"You didn't have to." 

Nyota made her way across the classroom, where the desks had been moved in a circle between then and the last time Jim was in it, and took a seat by the window with the practiced ease of someone who sat in that spot every time. Jim dropped into the desk next to her, glancing out the window for a second at the overcast sky before looking around the room, wondering if he'd see any familiar faces and then wondering whether or not he wanted to. Much to his--was it disappointment or delight?--he spotted Bones sitting in a desk across the room, talking with his friend from earlier and one other blond girl. 

"Oooh, Gaila! Come sit with us!" 

Jim was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Nyota's excited squealing as a redheaded girl entered the room. The girl, apparently Gaila, mirrored Nyota's excitement, rushing over to greet her friend with a hug before taking the seat next to her. "Hey, Nyota. Who's our new friend?" 

"This is Jim," Nyota said.

"I'm Jim," Jim copied with a nod.

"I'm Gaila," Gaila said, smiling. She held out a hand in greeting and Jim reached out across Nyota's desk to shake her hand, their hands lingering together for a few seconds too long for a regular hand shake. 

Jim smiled back at her and said, "Very nice to meet you, Gaila."

Nyota rolled her eyes, pushing their hands apart with an overexaggerated sigh. "No, no. Okay, no. Do this after the club, and not literally in front of me."

Jim and Gaila both laughed, and Gaila said, "Oh, so I have to put up with your boyfriend talking, but I can't even shake the new guy's hand?" 

"That's a double standard if I ever heard one, Nyota," Jim commented, to which Gaila nodded earnestly. "Let her shake my hand, it's good manners." 

"You already shook hands," Nyota said. 

"I'm sorry Jim, Nyota's just jealous of people who can do things like shake hands, because her boyfriend doesn't believe in PDA," Gaila said, which Nyota answered by elbowing her in the ribs. It had probably the opposite affect that she'd been going for, because Gaila laughed and went on, "Also, her boyfriend has dumb bangs. It's not relevant, I just like making fun of them." 

"What at they, like 2012 emo bangs? Or more of a bowl cut?"

"Yes, bowl cut!" 

"Wow, Nyota, you can do way better than some guy with a bowl cut," Jim said, shaking his head. "That's a real tragedy, that's what that is." 

"I should not have introduced you two," was all Nyota said, and Jim and Gaila laughed like they were already friends. 

Despite Nyota's earlier comment that they were going to be late, when Jim looked at the clock there was still another ten minutes to go before the club started. So the three of them kept talking while they waited, and Jim thought about taking back his complaint that the kids in this club would be boring. He got along with Nyota and Gaila like friends that had known each other forever; and he didn't feel the same need to play some sort of character like he did around Gary and his friends. Well, he did a little, he imagined that would always be there, but it was way less pronounced than with the others. 

"Red alert: Here comes The Bowl Cut," Gaila said, interrupting something Nyota had been saying with a playful laugh. 

"Spock, babe!" Nyota said, looking up and waving. 

 _Did she say--_ Jim thought, looking up and freezing momentarily. There, walking towards their desks with a leather messenger bag over his shoulder and a Coffee Bean mug in each hand, was Spock. How was it possible that he hadn't changed his hairstyle in ten years? Or his fashion sense for that matter, he wore what looked like the same jeans and button-down shirt, although the sleeves were rolled to his elbows. Without a doubt, this was Spock, his Spock. 

Jim suddenly found himself considering fleeing, getting out of the desk and never coming back to this club again. He knew he wouldn't actually do that, but he wasn't sure if he was supposed to say anything when Spock walked up, because how do you have that conversation? How could he apologize for leaving without saying goodbye, then not talking for ten years? What was he supposed to say? 

Before he even had time to decide, Spock was standing in front of the desks, handing one of the coffee cups to Nyota with a small smile. 

"Thank you," Nyota said in a little sing song, taking a sip of the coffee before setting it down on her desk. "Here, you can sit next to Jim. Oh, this is Jim by the way. He's the new kid." 

Spock glanced over at Jim, and Jim had no doubt he remembered him, because his eyes widened momentarily and Jim thought he read a second of indecision in his face. Then he nodded and walked the two steps to the empty desk beside Jim, setting his bag down on the ground before sitting down. Then, in a tone that sounded to Jim like he wasn't sure what to say, Spock said, "Hello." 

Jim wasn't sure whether to laugh or not. He gave a small nod and said, "Hey, what's up?" 

"It's an adverb," Spock said, earning a laugh from Nyota and a slight chuckle from Gaila. 

"Well, at least you didn't say the ceiling," Jim answered, infinitely grateful when he turned to see Pike entering the room.  _Thank god._ The club could start now and save him from whatever horrible awkwardness was about to happen if he had to talk to Spock in front of people for even another minute. He wanted to explain, but he didn't know how, and he definitely couldn't do it with an audience. 

Pike gave Jim a small smile when he saw him sitting there, and Jim just responded by rolling his eyes, which didn't seem to phase Pike in the slightest. He walked over to one of the empty desks in the circle, setting his travel mug down next to a stack of three pizza boxes, which Jim was quite frankly surprised he'd been able to carry all at once without dropping.

"Pizza's here!" he said, turning to the circle with a friendly smile. Folding his arms and leaning again one of the desks he added, "Y'know what's funny? The circle always looks way more full when we have pizza night. Anyone else notice that? Weird." 

Most of the students in the room laughed at that. Then just about everyone got up out of their desks, grabbing the paper plates someone had provided, stacking slices of pizza onto them, and then returning to their desks. 

"Ugh, a man after my own appetite," Gaila said, picking up a slice of pizza from her plate and holding it out for a toast.

Jim laughed, picking a piece from his own plate and reaching across Nyota to toast her. Then, still leaning heavily across Nyota's desk he looked over at her, took a bite from the pizza, and said with his mouth full, "Oh, sorry, did you not want us leaning across your desk, Nyota?" 

Gaila laughed, then laughed twice as hard when Nyota smacked Jim and said, "Get off my desk you infant." 

And Jim leaned back into his own desk, laughing along with them as he took another bite of pizza. "Did you just call me an infant?" 

"Am I wrong?" Nyota countered. 

Jim didn't answer, just shrugged. He was about to say something when he cut himself off, as Pike started to speak and everyone turned to the front of the room, where Pike was sitting in one of the desks. "Okay, so who wants to start us off with something? The floor is open." 

"Ooh, me! Me, me!" Gaila said, holding her hand up in the air and practically bouncing out of her seat. 

Pike laughed, as if this was perfectly usual behavior for Gaila, which Jim supposed it was, and nodded towards her. "Alright, Gaila, let's hear it." 

Gaila beamed, getting up out of her desk and moving to stand in front of it, taking her cell phone out of her pocket. She scrolled through it for a moment, pulling up whatever it was she had been searching for, then clearing her throat. "Okay, so Carol told me last meeting I didn't know what a haiku was, so I wrote a series of those. Take that Carol. Here they are: 

Number one; 

_Cherry blossoms fall / at the speed of / oh my god / no one fucking cares_

Nubmer two; 

_Jesus fucking Christ / another fucking haiku / I'm sick of this shit_

Finally, number three:

_Write some poetry / about cool shit like bar fights / you god damn assholes."_

Gaila bowed as the class laughed, including Jim and even Bones, though noticeably one blonde girl did not seem impressed, and Jim guessed she must be Carol. When they were done laughing, Gaila returned to her seat, a satisfied grin written across her face. Jim made sure to jokingly snap a few times, leaning over to whisper, "Those were beautiful, Gaila. Truly beautiful." 

"Aww, you're beautiful."

Nyota face-palmed.

"Wow, very moving," Pike deadpanned, nodding slowly. He looked like he was deciding between being amused or disapproving, maybe trying to figure out a way to be both. Then he seemed to settle for amusement, because he laughed softly, shaking his head. "As much as she may have done it to spite someone--more common in poetry than you might think by the way--Gaila's haikus do raise an interesting point." 

"They do?" Gaila asked, again earning some laughs scattered around the room. 

"Yes," Pike said. "Does poetry have to be serious all the time? All emotional, and angsty? No, it can be fun, right? That's what these haikus are, they're fun." 

"And a little ironic," Bones's friend who wasn't Carol remarked. "I love a good poem written to make fun of poetry, nicely done." 

"Thank you, Chris, I try," Gaila said, putting a hand over her heart as if sincerely flattered. 

Jim laughed, taking another bite of his pizza as some brunette guy volunteered to read one of his poems to the club. It was certainly more pretentious than Gaila's, though Jim couldn't fault him for that, most poetry came across as kind of pretentious, that was sort of the point. When the kid had finished reading his poem, Jim sat back and listened to other club members comment on it, getting a feel for how things were run. 

It was a club not a classroom, so most of them just commented freely without waiting to be called on, which only created an issue of people talking over one another a couple of times. There was also apparently a policy which they referred to as The Author is Dead, in which the author of whatever piece being discussed was not allowed to comment until the club was done discussing their piece. That made sense to Jim. A piece of writing had to be able to stand for itself, without the author around to explain it, or else what was the point of writing it? 

Some of the comments were very insightful, reading meanings and metaphors and Jim thought he could really get into the discussion without feeling like too much of a jackass as long as he prefaced with every comment saying "I thought your poem was dope" or something similar, instead of the routine, "it was effective how you," or other academic phrases like that. Which lead into Jim's only complaint so far: there were a lot of comments that seemed like they were meant to be insightful, but actually just came across as dumb. 

 _Who really cares why she wrote "wanna" instead of "want to"?_ Jim thought to himself after hearing someone ramble for a little too long. 

Before he knew it the club was ending, and he was walking out with Gaila, Nyota, and Spock. Which was, suffice to say, incredibly awkward. He'd noticed about halfway through the meeting that Bones and Spock never commented to or even looked at each other, and Spock didn't stop to say hi or bye to Bones on the way out. Jim only had about a thousand questions about that, ones that he wasn't sure he was even aloud to ask after what he did. 

"Ugh, Carol is so pretentious," Gaila was saying as they made their way out into the parking lot. "I get that some things are metaphors, but not everything has to be, y'know?" 

"She just wants to sound smart, so us little Americans feel inferior," Nyota said, laughing. 

"Somehow, I doubt those are her intentions." 

"You're supposed to be on my side, Spock." 

"Oh, right. Carol just wants to make us Americans appear ignorant in comparison to the geniuses of Great Britain." 

"Thanks, babe." 

Spock and Nyota both laughed, and Gaila looked over at Jim to make sure he saw her rolling her eyes. Just to make her laugh, Jim made an overexaggerated gagging expression, which was more than successful. 

The four of them hung around in the parking lot for a bit, Spock and Jim gracefully avoiding talking to each other too much. Jim was wondering how long they could hang around talking--it seemed like they would never run out of conversation topics, which was a new and certainly not unwelcome experience--When it started to rain, and suddenly they all cared a lot more about finding their cars and heading home. 

Jim laughed as he pulled his jacket up over his head, commenting, "Aren't I glad I decided to walk today." 

"You shouldn't walk in this weather, you'll catch a cold," Spock said, although he didn't sound all that committed. 

"Noooooo, you can't die before we even get to know you!" Gaila pulled Jim into an abrupt and overdramatic hug, smushing the side of her face into the side of his. "I don't even know enough to give a good eulogy."

"What? I'm too young to die!" Jim played along, clutching to Gaila's arm as dramatically as she'd hugged him. 

"It's not likely he would die," Spock said, unamused. 

"You don't know that," Nyota joked.

"You are supposed to be on my side, Nyota." 

"Oh, right," Nyota said, nodding and turning to Gaila and Jim with an emotionless expression similar enough to Spock's that Jim wondered how much time she spent doing sarcastic impressions of him. Then, as if to confirm the theory, she spoke in a remarkably Spock-like voice and said, "It's statistically unlikely that Jim would die." 

"Thanks, babe." 

All four of them laughed and then Nyota took her keys out of her jacket pocket and unlocked her car. "Me and Spock were gonna catch a movie, but we might have time to drop you off at your place if you want, Jim." 

"It's fine, I don't wanna make you late," Jim said, trying not to laugh at how tightly Gaila was still clinging to him in the rain. 

"I would rather we be late than you be dead," Spock said, and Jim really couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "Besides, they do play trailers, which I don't mind missing." 

"It's cool guys, I can drive him," Gaila said. 

"Alright," Nyota said, a little hesitantly. "But I don't like this rain, can you both text me when you're home safe? Gaila, give him my number, we gotta go." 

Gaila nodded, and Jim watched Spock and Nyota disappear into Nyota's green Subaru Forester. Once they'd driven away, Gaila tucked her arm under Jim's elbow and started leading him towards where her car was parked. "I hope you don't mind loud music."

Jim glanced over his shoulder once more at where Spock and Nyota had disappeared, then turned back to Gaila and made a remark about loving loud music.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol, so while most of the poems the club will read in this story'll probs be my own, gaila's haikus come from [this](http://bigbreath.tumblr.com/post/43931293373/three-haikus-ii) post on tumblr, which i absolutely love, please enjoy
> 
> anytime i borrow a poem for a character i'll put a link, but i probs won't borrow a ton. anyway, thanks for reading!


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